ADVISOR TO THE PRESIDENT…ALMOST? [Sun, 11-3-24]

BEYOND WINTER: The Irrelevant Memories of an Old Man—ADVISOR TO THE PRESIDENT…ALMOST? [Sun, 11-3-24]

 

I had totally forgotten about the time I decided to become an advisor to Bobby Kennedy in his run for the presidency in 1968, until the strange life of Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. has appeared to remind me of a memory placed long ago in the back of my non-worm-eaten brain—the time I decided to be the Protestant/youth advisor to the middle-aged Catholic running for president, Robert F. Kennedy, Sr.

I never intended to be part of the Civil Rights movement, or any other movement. I just wanted to get an education and a pretty wife and have people think I was a good preacher. And be a decent Christian.

The movements of history, though, like time and tide, “wait for no man.” When you are confronted with a moral issue, you have to take a stance. I became a part of the Civil Rights movement just one decision at a time, trying to be a decent Christian, trying to do the right thing at that particular moment. 

The same thing happened with my opposition to the Viet Nam war. I was a campus minister in the days of Viet Nam. My kids were going off to war. I first supported the war, and then learned that our own government was lying to us, that the war was unwinnable, that we were sending young men off to die because, as both Johnson and Nixon said, “I don’t intend to be the first president to lose a war.” It was madness.

There were challengers, though, who said we could do better. When presidential aspirant Eugene McCarthy was asked if he could end the war if he were president, he replied, “Anyone who is president can end the war.” I liked “Clean Gene,” but I thought Bobby Kennedy had a better chance of winning the presidency, and thus of ending the war. I decided to back him.

Not just back him. Work for him. Not just as a volunteer. On his staff.

I thought he needed someone on staff who could advise the Boston Catholic how to deal with Midwest Protestants. Moreover, he needed someone who knew how to communicate with young people. Who better than a Methodist campus minister?

I was afraid to tell anyone. I knew they would ridicule me for thinking I could get onto RFK’s staff, even make contact with him. But I was determined. We needed to end that war. Bobby could do it. I could help him.

So I laid out my plan. I made lists. I collected resources. I put them in folders. I looked over his current staff. I started writing my pitch, why he needed me. I had no idea how to make the necessarily deep connection, but I was sure I could figure it out. I was committed. We had to end that war! Now, how would I explain this to my wife?

Then…RFK was assassinated. It made no difference to me personally. My life would go on as it had been. But…what about Bob? His family? The nation? All those boys—American and Vietnamese--yet to die in the tunnels and ride paddies?

I still have all those ideas I was going to use to help RFK. It’s a different kind of war now, but the nation is just as divided as it was then. I wonder if my ideas could be adjusted to work for a Baptist instead of a Catholic? I wonder how I’m going to explain this to my wife

John Robert McFarland